


ghost in the attic (the confession: i must have loved you remix)

by snottygrrl



Series: ghost series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_remix, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-05
Updated: 2006-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-war. Draco wonders about Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ghost in the attic (the confession: i must have loved you remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ghost in the Attic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1783) by wildegirl_05. 



> **warnings:** minor character death  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** this is a remix of [](http://wildegirl-05.livejournal.com/profile)[**wildegirl_05**](http://wildegirl-05.livejournal.com/)'s [Ghost in the Attic](http://best-of-five.livejournal.com/2322.html). i chose to do a standard remix theme and tell the story from the other's POV (draco in this case). the thing that makes this a wee bit tricky is that draco isn't actually _in_ the original fic. _Ghost in the Attic_ was inspired Sting's song [Ghost Story](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sting/ghoststory.html). i tried to keep this remix to the spirit of that song and the rhythm of the original story. finally, i would not have been able to pull this off without the unending support of [](http://phenix-tears.livejournal.com/profile)[**phenix_tears**](http://phenix-tears.livejournal.com/) and [](http://coffeejunkii.livejournal.com/profile)[**coffeejunkii**](http://coffeejunkii.livejournal.com/). one who brainstormed for hours and hours with me (and gives me unending support) and the other who kept me from giving up and encouraged and extended and beta'd in the 11th hour. thanks ladies.

Draco Malfoy carefully locks his teller drawer, flicks some lint off of his perfectly pressed suit and dons an expensive-looking Muggle overcoat. Like most days, as he catches the number 13 bus home, he watches the western sky and wonders what Harry Potter is doing right now. Inevitably, musing about Potter brings with it remembrances of a life and an entire world that Draco has had to flee and _those_ maudlin thoughts lead him back to the fateful night.

Appropriately, the weather had been miserable, the visibility poor. The Dark Lord, in his increasing zeal to destroy Potter and the rest of the opposition, had been intent on having the majority of his Death Eaters involved in that night's planned raid. Draco's already tenuous position as trusted servant could not have withstood any excuse as to why he would have to miss another mission. Yet, it was the only time that he'd have access to information vital to the Order. Information that Remus Lupin had promised Draco would ensure his and his family's safety and guarantee his freedom. Draco had used the only option open to him. He had asked Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle for their help.

It always astounds him, whenever he thinks of that night, how readily they had agreed despite his lack of explanation. Vince to take part in the raid polyjuiced as Draco, and Greg as go-between to make sure the real Draco stayed out of sight while his doppelganger existed. They had planned that once Vince returned to his bulky self, Greg would retrieve Draco from his hiding place.

It still makes Draco's gut twist, even now, that neither man had asked why they should risk their lives for him, nor what was so important.

While his friends had taken part in the attack, Draco had found the specified information. Clutching the map to his chest, he'd Apparated to the coordinates that Lupin had directed. The exchange had been quick, the detailed guide for Lupin's oath to vouch for Draco and do his utmost to keep the Order to their word to protect his family. As they were preparing to Apparate away, Lupin had stopped him, his hand hovering over Draco's arm, as if knowing his touch would _not_ have been welcome.

Draco thinks he should remember exactly what the werewolf had said at that point. Thinks the earnest words should have been burned into him, in much the same way the sudden flash of hope and confused longing they elicited was branded into his soul. However, all Draco can recall are snatches -- _not easy_ and _Harry insisted_ and _Dumbledore's promise_ and _believes in you_.

Several more hours had passed that night before Greg had arrived and found Draco huddled in the shadows at their chosen meeting spot.

"Draco, I... I wasn't sure… I didn't know… You're dead, see. I mean Vince is. It was so dark. You couldn't see anything. I lost Vince in the fighting and then Pansy screamed your name." Draco's world had contracted. "She's dead, too. I, I couldn't get to them. After Pansy fell, Potter showed up from somewhere. He just stood there for the longest time staring at Vince. At you. Just staring. I didn't know what to do…" Greg had trailed off, watching Draco.

Perhaps Greg had learned over the school years that one shouldn't point out when a Malfoy is less than composed, as he had never said anything about Draco's stunned look or disheveled appearance. Draco, in turn, had made no comment concerning Greg's stuttered speech, his shell-shocked expression. In the here and now, surrounded by Muggles and riding a bus, Draco is bemused by their past-selves blank acceptance as their world had been shattering around them. But then again, what else could they have done?

He and Greg had left that night with very few possessions and hidden in Muggle London. They had bumbled along, doing their best to survive and somehow kept an ear to the wizarding news. Even so, it was nearly three months before they had found out that Lupin had been killed that night and that everyone, on both sides of the war, believed Draco had died a faithful Death Eater, and that the missing Crabbe and Goyle were blood traitors, either spies or cowards. Despite Greg's bleak despair that they would never be able to return, Draco had felt a desperate hope that if he could only talk to Potter, it would all be all right. If Potter knew the truth, he would fix it.

Draco had learned some months later -- weeks after the historic final confrontation -- that in an ironic twist of fate, it had been the map that Potter had discovered on the dying Lupin that had turned the tide for the Order, resulting in the defeat of the Dark Lord at Potter's hands many battles later. However, no one had needed to tell either Greg or Draco when Potter had actually killed He-Who-Could-Now-Be-Named. The twin burning in their forearms had left no doubt about the instant it'd happened. The momentary belief that it might have been safe for them to return to Wizarding society had been quelled when they heard rumors of swift war trials that always ended in a guilty verdict and frantic celebrations steeped with ancient rituals of triumph. Draco had said they'd have to get to Potter first before they dared enter their old world. In an uncharacteristic show of boldness, Greg had stood up to Draco, saying he wanted no part in any attempts to go back. Pushing up his sleeve, he'd showed the faded mark and said even Potter couldn't keep him out of Azkaban. Draco had nodded curtly and had never mentioned it again.

Sometime after he'd managed to get a position as a sales clerk at a Muggle clothing store and Greg had found a job delivering sandwiches, a Squib Draco paid for information, had told him that Potter had been Best Man at the Weasley-Granger wedding some time back and would, of course, be the godfather for the child they were expecting. He spoke of repeated accolades for Potter's work at the Ministry and his rapid rise through the ranks. Draco hadn't been able to stop himself from wondering if Potter's extra influence would have made any difference for Greg, but he'd kept his thoughts to himself.

In the ensuing years, Greg had adapted amazingly well to the Muggle world. He had dated and married Betty, a Muggle who had worked at one of the offices Greg had first delivered sandwiches to. He'd successfully worked his way up from delivery boy, to cook, to assistant manager of the small sandwich shop. Draco had tried to follow his lead, had tried to forget their old lives and make himself a new one. However, he just hadn't been able to shake his overwhelming desire to know what had been occurring in the Wizarding world. His continuous need to hear what had been going on with Potter. Around the same time that Draco had succeeded in landing a job at a Muggle bank, the Squib who had been supplying information had told him that Potter had married the Weaslette.

A mostly solitary life in the Muggle world gives Draco far too much time to think, and he knows it was at that moment, all those years ago, when his heart stopped with the words _Harry Potter_ and _married_ and _Ginny Weasley_ , that he had first began to admit that Potter might mean more to him than just a way back.

Two summers later when the Goyles had been expecting their second child, they had moved to Australia. Greg had looked miserable the day he told Draco of their plans. He said he was tired of looking over his shoulder all the time, and though he didn't want to be so far away, he had to think of his family, make sure his children were safe. Betty's uncle worked for a big hotel chain down under and had managed to get Greg a position in one of the hotel's restaurants. It was good pay Greg had said, and had room for advancement. Draco had assured him he understood -- he did really -- and that while he had no desire to become an Aussie, he would visit one day. Neither of them had said what they both knew, that Draco would never move so far away from Potter.

Just last week, another Squib told Draco that the Ministry gave Potter a big send off a few months ago. That they said it was high time he retired and that he'd served the Wizarding world long enough. Draco had paid the Squib extra to learn of the rumours. Rumours that Potter has been acting more strangely as the years have gone by, that he stares off into space for long periods of time and that the Weaslette has moved back home.

But the most astounding bit of news is that Potter is now working as a bookkeeper in a Muggle office not far from where Draco lives.

Draco spends nearly a month trying to decide what to do with this startling bit of information. He's known for a long time now that during his schooling at Hogwarts, though he had often feigned indifference towards Potter, that nearly everything he'd done had sought Potter's attention. That he'd always measured himself against Potter. He's only recently figured out that, later, during the war and especially now in the Muggle world, Potter is his Lode Star, the one he maps his course by despite having had no contact with him for nearly eight years.

Huddled back in the shadows, Draco watches anxiously as Potter trudges out of his small office and closes the door behind him. He's stunned when Potter walks methodically to the lift and waits patiently for the quiet ding, apparently oblivious to the fact that Draco Malfoy is standing in the tiny hallway of a Muggle office building. While trailing after a somewhat dazed Potter through the darkening twilight, Draco tries to reconcile the powerful, hot-tempered, reckless boy he knew with this docile, polite, careful man just ahead of him. The short walk brings them to the steps of a row house and as Potter fumbles for his keys, Draco's suddenly aware, that if he doesn't talk to him now, he never will. That he'll be unable to knock on this stranger's door. Unable to attempt to bridge the years that stand between them.

He moves forward quickly. "Potter. H-Harry."

Harry stills completely, then slowly turns. His eyes widen slightly. His voice is barely a whisper. "Draco?" Abruptly, Harry sits down hard on the stoop.

Retrieving the keys from where they've fallen, Draco moves towards the door. "Let's get you inside. If it's all right with you, I'd like to clear up a few things, but I'll go whenever you want."

When Harry meets his gaze again, there is a glimmer of the reckless boy. "Okay," he says and smiles.

~fin


End file.
